


A High-Quality Low-Quality Spice Pirate

by Rocketpropelled_Taco_Van



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types
Genre: Backstory, Cosplay, Minor Original Character(s), Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:28:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21597670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rocketpropelled_Taco_Van/pseuds/Rocketpropelled_Taco_Van
Summary: So, I've been working on a craptacular Star Wars costume and decided that I needed some backstory. So here it is!
Kudos: 1





	A High-Quality Low-Quality Spice Pirate

**Star Wars**

Episode Somewhere Between 3 and 4

A High-Quality Low-Quality Spice Pirate

Hey there! I’m Garkblat Zoosta. You can call me Gark for short, if you want. I’m a spice pirate. Not a space pirate. Wait, no, I am a space pirate, but specifically for spices. You’re probably wondering how I got here. So am I. Let’s take a trip down memory lane and see where it all went wrong.

I was a cook at this place called Frydulon, which was voted the Highest Quality Low-Quality Diner on Qalydon 10 years running. It was a cold kinda rainy Wednesday morning when this old couple comes in and asks to be seated for brunch. The host seats them at table six, because it’s got a great view. There’s a slight problem, though; table six is missing its salt shaker. Being a quick thinking young lad, I grab one from table four. This didn’t solve the problem so much as relocate the problem to table four. So I head back to the kitchen to look for another salt shaker, but we don’t have any! I check every single cupboard, drawer, and shelf, but there wasn’t a single salt shaker to be found! However, since it was early and Bynne, a culinary master, was manning the griddle, I decided to take a ride on my swoop scooter (also known as a swooter) down to the shops to get another salt shaker.

So I get to the shops and go over to the spice aisle. Luckily, they had salt shakers. Unluckily, they weren’t the same salt shakers we had at Frydulon. They were similar sure, but it always irks me when there’s just one salt shaker that’s different from the other salt shakers. It just highlights the fact that it’s a low-low-quality joint that doesn’t care about its appearance. Frydulon is a high-quality low-quality joint that does care about its appearance, at least a little bit!

So I’m standing there, looking at salt shakers hoping and praying to the culinary gods that there’s at least one salt shaker left that matches ours, when these scruffy muffin heads start arguing right behind me. Two groups of scruffy tough-y looking guys arguing about turmeric or some crap. I try to ignore it and keep looking for the right salt shaker, but they only get louder and louder. They’re screaming externally, I’m screaming internally, and just as it seems they’re about to come to blows, I decide that enough is enough. I turn around and say, “Hey guys! There’s plenty of spices to go around. There’s no need to get heated about it.” That was apparently the wrong thing to say, because one of the guys brandished a blaster pistol and started trying to light me up.

One of the blaster bolts meant for me ends up in one of the other guys. So I’m now in the middle of a duel between 10 people at 2 paces, trying not to die. I’m cowering on the ground, and I look at the ganger who so kindly took a blaster bolt to the chest for me. He’s got a blaster rifle lying at his side. It’s an old E-5 model, but it’s something. So, I grab it and return fire. Turns out I’m better with a blaster than I thought because what was meant to be covering fire for my escape dropped all five gangers in maybe two seconds. So, now I’m a murderer! Perfect! I’m scared, people are screaming, stormtroopers are on their way, and these guys start hoofing it. I, not thinking, decide to run, too. Where do I run? No clue, but these guys seem to have a clue, so I run after them. I didn’t realize they were running back to their ship, and they didn’t realize I had tagged along until after they had shot off into hyperspace.

So that’s how I ended up being a spice pirate. Nice group of pirates, actually. Turns out they’re really into cooking and cool with some quintuple homicide.

And now, years later, I’m still hanging out with them, while secretly looking for that salt shaker for table four. I may be a thief and a murderer, but I will by no means allow Frydulon to become a low-quality low-quality joint!


End file.
